Mama used to tell us a story about a cicada sitting high in a tree. It chirps and drinks in dew, oblivious to the praying mantis behind it. The mantis arches up its front leg to stab the cicada, but it doesn't know an oriole perches behind it. The bird stretches out its neck to snap up the mantis for a midday meal, but its unaware of the boy who's come into the garden with a net. Three creatures—the cicada, the mantis and the oriole—all coveted gains without being aware of the greater and inescapable danger that was coming.
I am like a praying mantis, after I have sex with a guy I will rip their heads off.
I told my girlfriend that a praying mantis female eats its mate after copulation. She didn't take the hint.
A black widow loves her mate then kills him. A praying mantis loves her mate then eats him. Women love my dad, but he's too big to eat.
I do destroy men on a weekly basis. It's like a hobby. I'm like a praying mantis.
Think of me as the praying mantis of the supernatural world. Aren't those the bugs that bite the heads off the males? Link looked skeptical. Yes. Then they eat them
